O Que e Bom Sempre tem um Final
by I Bought Earrings on Sale
Summary: Jimmy just wants to get drunk peacefully, but Gary decides to pay Jimmy-boy a visit to catch up.


Jimmy rested his head against the headboard of his bed, sighing heavily as he tipped the bottle of scotch he snagged off of Galloway to his lips. Already at the first sip, he felt his body heat up in reaction to the liquor. He was thankful for the peaceful time he had to himself.

"Hey, Jimmy-boy!" Gary had practically kicked the door open and stormed in without so much of a warning or a knock. "Getting drunk, huh? Just like your dad!"

Jimmy shot his 'friend' the dirtiest of looks and took another sip from the bottle. "Shut the fuck up, Gary." He hated being sober when talking to Gary.

A smile appeared on the brunette's lips. He fixed his eyes onto the bottle, carefully reading the label. He knew he had recognized it somewhere. "So, did you steal it from Galloway, or did he give it to you so Crabblesnitch wouldn't find the glorious stash?"

"Second one. If you're going to stay, take a seat. If not, get the fuck out." Dealing with Gary sober now was a chore, compared to the previous year before he knew Gary was planning against him.

Gary grabbed the swivel chair near Jimmy's desk. He spun it around a few times before he finally sat. He rested his arms and chin on the back of the chair, his legs on either side. "I'm seated. Now pass me some of that."

"Why should I?" Jimmy brought the bottle to his lips, and let the scotch slide down his throat, the liquor burn his throat, making it tighten.

"Wouldn't want Crabblesnitch knowing about something like this, right, James?"

Jimmy sighed, handing the bottle over to the ever arrogant Gary. "You're a fucking snake, you know that?"

"And you're a moron. Thanks for sharing, though!" The brunette took a whiff of the liquor and brought it to his lips, swallowing enough to make a gulping noise.

"You know, I should probably kick your ass for all of that shit last year." A heavy sigh passed through the boy's lips. "I'm surprised your still alive. Have the jocks gotten their hands on you, yet?"

Gary grinned, passing the bottle back over to Jimmy. "Numerous times, and it's better every time. I think the best part was the sexual harassment from Damon. That was just the cherry on top of the past few months. I still have some bruises to brag about, too."

"Hm, that sucks," Jimmy paused to take another drink, "But you deserve it, you dick." He couldn't wait to get drunk if Gary was going to stick around. He seemed to be wiser when he was smashed.

"Yeah, I guess I do. Being a genius has its consequences. I guess you're just so dumb you don't ever have problems, huh, Jimmy-boy? Oh, wait, what was that I heard about the other day? Oh, yeah, seems like you haven't been able to get it up for Zoe lately." Gary chuckled at the boy in front of him. He loved making Jimmy hate him. He _loved_ controlling Jimmy to hate him.

"Shut the fuck up, Gary. There've been no problems between me and Zoe!" Jimmy already had his defensive wall up now, ready to deny everything and make up fake things on the spot to convince Gary that there was no problem until he was drunk enough to retort properly.

Gary snatched the bottle and swallowed some more liquor, letting it absorb into him. "Oh? That's not what I heard her telling Lola the other day. 'Jimmy's such a sweetheart, but lately he can't get it up, or he's lasting a really short time. Is there something wrong with me?' You know, regular stuff girls bitch about. That's why I'm not very fond of them."

Jimmy reached for his alarm clock and tried to throw it at Gary, but the alcohol was already starting to throw him off, and he missed the boy by several feet. "Just _shut_ the _fuck_ up, Gary! Why don't you go call Petey and bother him?"

Gary grinned. He was winning, whatever it was, he was winning it. "Pete just completely ignores me or cries at everything I say. He's no fun. C'mon, we haven't talked mano-a-mano since last year, Jimmy. Why don't you come here and give me a big hug for us finally catching up?"

Jimmy was sick of all of the brunette's sarcasm and seemingly infinite knowledge. He grabbed the bottle back from Gary's hands. He needed to win, and he planned to do it with liquor.

"You can't drink me out, Jimmy. Even if you were nothing but a drooling retard, the only thing you'd hear is my voice in your head. Wouldn't it be wonderful, Jimmy? Wouldn't you just love me to narrate every moment of your fucking life? Wouldn't you just-"

"I want to see those bruises." Jimmy said, abruptly cutting the brunette off.

Gary's grin fell. "What?" It was the first time in a long time Gary was completely confused. He had clearly heard what Jimmy said, and he knew what he meant, but why didn't Jimmy react with anger like he had planned?

"I want to see the bruises the jocks left from the last time they beat you up." He passed the bottle back to Gary, who placed it next to Jimmy's bed on the floor. "I want to see the damage, and I want to tell them to stop messing with weak kids, even if it's a dick like you."

Gary felt anger boil in his chest as he heard himself being called weak by his sworn enemy. The memories of his pathetic defeat flooded his mind, and he scowled heavily at Jimmy. He stood up and pulled his sweater vest over his head, placing it on the back of the swivel chair. "Don't you ever call me weak. I'm _not fucking_ weak."

Jimmy sighed. "I'm not taking it back. Your mind might be able to control a whole nation, Gary, but your fighting sucks."

Gary didn't answer. He was focused on unbuttoning his shirt, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. He reached to pull his white tank-top over his head, and turned his back to Jimmy. "On my back, these are the lovely parting gifts left by those morons."

Jimmy tried to get off the bed, but nearly stumbled. He regained his composure and flicked the light of his room on. He slowly made his way to Gary, swaying slightly. He couldn't see Gary's bruises clearly, because of the alcohol clouding his vision, but he could make out some of the dark blue and black patches on the brunette's skin. He mindlessly reached a finger to one of Gary's bruises, and pressed into the firm, dark blue, skin. "Does this hurt?"

Gary's shoulders tensed at the touch. "No fucking duh, Hopkins," He spat at the boy angrily.

Jimmy put his other hand on Gary's back. He couldn't see Gary's bruises clearly, but he could feel where some of the brunette's skin swelled, and some of the parts that were scarred. He felt Gary slowly growing more uncomfortable, and he was winning, although doing and saying everything by his drunken impulse.

Gary didn't know how to respond to Jimmy grazing his hands all over his back. He didn't expect Jimmy to express concern at all, he expected Jimmy to keep yelling at him until he got so drunk he passed out, and Gary would consider that a victory, but at that moment, Jimmy was winning on just his impulse. Jimmy was ruining his plans again. "I hate you," Gary hissed.

"I know you do," Jimmy whispered. "These are bad bruises."

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know."

"Here's something. The skin on your back is really soft." Jimmy ran his hands over his back, amused that Gary's skin was almost as soft and smooth as Zoe's

Gary's head turned to look at Jimmy, who was trying to stare intently at something, but his gaze was lost. "Thanks. I'll put that on my resume." How was he supposed to win at this rate? Jimmy was drunk, and random things were spilling out of his mouth, totally owning Gary and taking him by surprise each time.

"I don't hate you," Jimmy finally said, "I hate what you did, though." He rested his chin on Gary's shoulder.

"That's dumb. What I did was a reflection of who I am as a person. You're just really stupid." He felt Jimmy's big head weigh down on his shoulder. He always thought Jimmy's head was filled with hot hair, but it must've been filled with lead considering how heavy the boy's head was.

Jimmy sighed. "I have been having problems with Zoe," he confessed, "And I feel terrible about them. I've asked some of the biggest players on campus. I asked Gord how he keeps it up, but he told me that he thinks that he's fucking Aquaberry clothes instead of the person. I asked Lola if there was anything wrong with me, and she just told me that me and Zoe have done it so much we've gotten bored. Gary, I _love_ Zoe. I don't want to get bored of her."

"Don't dump your problems on me. I may have seen enough therapists to outdo a celebrity in rehab, but I'm not helping you with your dumb fucking relationship problems."

"Gary, how do you keep it up, then? Pretend it has nothing to do with me and Zoe, if it helps." He could feel Gary's jealousy pulse from his body to his own.

Gary pouted. He faced front again to not face the idiot drunk boy practically drooling on his shoulder. "I'm not obligated to tell you shit."

Jimmy chuckled. "So that's how it is? Fine."

"I should go to bed, or something. Petey's probably crying himself to sleep without me there to mess with him." Gary rushed out of Jimmy's grasp and reached for his shirt. He was losing, losing bad. He wanted to forfeit before another pathetic loss.

Jimmy grabbed Gary's wrist tightly to prevent his escape back to his own dorm room. Gary seriously needed to learn a lesson on not bothering him.

"Let go of me, moron."

Jimmy pulled Gary closer to him. "I know Petey's with his girlfriend in Vermont. Just admit that I'm making you uncomfortable."

Gary swore quietly to himself. "Fuck you, James." He tried to dig his nails into Jimmy's hand to escape.

"And you're going to masturbate tonight, right? With my voice in your head. Oh, Gary, it's going to be wonderful. You'll feel your burning hate towards me, and your tears are going to spill over your cheeks and-"

"_Fuck you, Jimmy__!_" He tried to pull his wrist out of Jimmy's barbarian hand, but Jimmy's grip proved to be too strong. Compared to his own. He lost. Jimmy won. Again. He felt weak. He felt the hate in him well up. He wanted to choke the boy to death, until his head was limp in his hands, until Jimmy's pulse stopped completely. "Let _fucking_ go of me, or so help you I'll-"

"You'll _what_? Call me an idiot, try to beat me up and fail, try to turn the whole school against me, Gary? Can you really do any of those things now, Gary?"

"_Shit!_" Gary yelled. His voice cracked slightly. He tried to shake Jimmy's grasp, but he already felt angry tears of failure trail down his cheeks. "Let go of me, Jimmy. Just let go of me!"

Jimmy's face was flat. "You need help, Gary." Jimmy said as he finally let go of Gary's shaking wrist, now reddened from all of the brunette's desperate struggling.

Gary sat on the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest. He rested his head on his folded arms resting atop his knees. The only thing visible of his head was his messy brown hair. He lost. He lost badly, painfully, and now he lost twice as much because he was proving he was weak. He hated Jimmy Hopkins. He hated him almost as much as he was fascinated by him.

Jimmy sat back on his bed and reached for the bottle of scotch. He placed it gently on his nightstand. "I'm going to bed. Turn the lights off on your way out, okay? Goodnight, Gary."

--

(A/N)

The name means "What's good always has an end." I chose it basically because Gary's plans were almost guaranteed to be good, but they failed miserably.

Yes, in this, Petey has a girlfriend, and I can already picture her, and she's adorable, but I'm sure you all hate me for making Petey have a girlfriend. XD

I started writing this randomly thanks to listening to "The Girl from Ipanema". Why it inspired me to write this? Hell if I know, those crazy Brazilians. :D


End file.
